


Trixie Belden and the Sorrowful Sisters

by idleflower



Category: The Trixie Belden Mysteries - Julie Campbell Tatham & Kathryn Kenny
Genre: F/F, Mystery, Setting: Pre-1960, Wait for it, buried treasure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2014-12-16
Packaged: 2018-03-01 18:24:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2783129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idleflower/pseuds/idleflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trixie and Honey discover a mysterious message in the woods, referring to estranged sisters and a 'treasure' waiting for one of them. But all may not be as it seems... (This story intended to be accessible to readers new to the canon.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mayhap](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayhap/gifts).



"Jeepers, Honey! Did you see that?" The teenaged blonde reined her little black mare to a halt and pointed ahead into the woods.

Madeleine Wheeler, called Honey for her golden-brown hair and sweet personality, brought her own horse neatly into position beside her companion. "Shh, Lady. That's right," she soothed, patting the dapple-gray neck. Honey looked in the direction indicated, then shook her head. "I don't see anything. What is it, Trixie?"

Trixie Belden's blue eyes sparkled as she smiled. "There's something built over there. A shack or a shed or something. Maybe it's poachers!"

"Oh, I hope not. Maybe we should go back."

"Come on! I want to see!" She nudged her horse and began to move forward again.

Susie, the black mare, was not really Trixie's horse. Like Lady, she belonged to the wealthy Wheeler family. Honey's parents had moved to the Hudson Valley area some time ago in search of fresh air and a healthier lifestyle for their young daughter. The move had paid off in unexpected ways. First Honey met Trixie and the Belden family, becoming fast friends, and then together they had discovered their first mystery, the orphaned runaway Jim Frayne hiding out on the Wheelers' property. Now Jim had been adopted into the Wheeler family and, along with Honey, Trixie, and their friends, had helped to form a club dedicated to solving mysteries: the Bob-Whites of the Glen. 

This month, however, Jim was away at a camp, along with Trixie's older brothers Mart and Brian. The three boys were working as young counselors, learning how to safely guide city kids through the wilds of New York. It was a useful experience for them, but it meant that the Bob-Whites were slightly short-handed if a mystery came along. The girls were not exactly searching for one, but in Trixie's experience, mysteries were everywhere.

Today, the girls had gone for a leisurely ride through the woods near Sleepyside. With no particular destination in mind, they simply wandered as the wind took them through areas both familiar and unfamiliar. It was in one of the latter that Trixie had spotted the structure among the trees.

As they came closer, it was apparent that this was nothing like Mr. Maypenny's well-kept cabin on the game preserve. In shape, it resembled the Adirondack lean-tos that her brothers had described as camping shelters: three log walls holding up a wooden roof. Instead of the fourth wall standing open, however, here there was a grid of thin planks clumsily nailed together into a wooden lattice, now overgrown with moss and vines. A hole cut into the center of the lattice served as a door, with the tattered remains of a blanket covering the entrance.

Trixie dismounted and walked up to look at the lattice-wall. "That's not very well-made. The boys did a much better job than this fixing our clubhouse roof. Do you think maybe kids built this?"

"Maybe we should leave it alone," Honey said. "If it's someone's secret clubhouse. We wouldn't want strangers breaking into ours."

"I don't think anyone's been here in a long time," Trixie said. "These thin bits of wood have gone rotten. If we're not careful, it'll fall apart." Cautiously, she pushed the blanket aside and peered at the dim interior. "Look at this!"

After securing their horses, the two girls slipped into the wooden shack. The inside was as much a mix and a mess as the outside - a far cry from the bright gatehouse that Honey had trimmed with curtains! The floor, like the log walls, was rough-hewn and dirty, but solid. The 'furniture' was little more than garbage, old crates repurposed into chairs and tables. On one of the 'tables', a pair of candles stood inside glass bottles, still upright, as if waiting for their owners to return and relight them. Another bottle lay empty in a corner. Honey bent over for a closer look at the label. "Oh, dear! Gin!" She glanced over the filthy floor. Along with clumps of dirt, rotten leaves, and acorn hulls, a few burnt-out cigarettes were clearly visible. "I don't think it was children who used this place."

"Probably not." Trixie was looking through a stack of papers and magazines. "I guess they liked to read. Look, 'Spicy Detective Stories'! What a silly cover. Oh - and here's a movie playbill with Elizabeth Taylor on it. Isn't she pretty?"

"I've always thought Di looked a little bit like her," Honey said. "Trixie - what's that?"

A single sheet of paper sat alone atop a crate in the far corner. Trixie picked it up. "Oh, Honey! It's a letter!"

\---

> My dearest Lucy,
> 
> I write these words not knowing if you will ever see them, or if I will ever see you again. And yet, despite all that has happened in this past year, I could never give up hope. Surely, some fondness must linger in you yet, some happy memory of the time we spent here together. 
> 
> You must know by now that I have gone away, off to the West to seek a new beginning. After your marriage to that man, there was nothing left to hold me to this town. He (I no longer wish to speak his name) has ordered me not to write to you, and so I cannot even send you my new address. And so he thinks the tie is cut between us forever. It does not have to be so, sweet Lucy. The choice is yours, as it has always been. 
> 
> I should never have tried to prevent you from marrying, if that was what you wanted. I thought I knew what was best for you, but in my heart I wanted what was best for me. In that I am not so different from your husband, am I? 
> 
> Are you happy there, in your new life? Or do you long for what you have lost? Will your dreams lead you back to this place, our hideaway, to find this letter I have written for you?
> 
> If he makes you unhappy, if his base nature causes you harm, do not let him rule you in fear. You are not without options. I have set aside a treasure for you. The key is here. I have buried my gift behind the stones where we stood the night of the prom. If you should ever need it, take it and go and don't look back.
> 
> And if you cannot, or will not, then be happy, and know that I am always thinking of you. Forgive me, as I have forgiven you.
> 
> Your devoted sister,  
>  Evelyn

\---

"Buried treasure," Trixie breathed. "Did you hear that? And look -- " She swept her hand across the surface of the crate, coming up with a tiny metal object. "Here's the key!"

"It's not ours," Honey said. "It belongs to Evelyn and Lucy."

"Well, it would belong to Lucy, if she ever came and found it," Trixie said. "But if she didn't, then she doesn't know about it. We could find it for her!"

"But we can't," Honey pointed out. "We don't know where it's buried. Only Lucy would know that. And we can't ask her, because we don't know who she is."

"Right." Trixie blew out a slow breath. "Well, we haven't finished looking around in here. Maybe there's another clue."

They spent a few minutes picking carefully through the detritus of the old hideaway, but the only other interesting item they turned up was a stray photograph. It showed a young woman, a few years older than Trixie or Honey. Her dark hair was stylishly rolled, but she wore oversized men's jeans and a long loose checked shirt over her neatly buttoned blouse. A cigarette was clasped loosely between her fingers. The only label was the letter "E". 

"Do you think this is Evelyn?" Honey asked.

"I guess so," Trixie said. "I wonder how long ago these things were left? There's no date on the letter or the picture. They could have been here for ages."

Honey looked at the letter again. "A few years, maybe five, but not as many as ten. The paper would have faded more by then."

"So these sisters are probably in their twenties?" Trixie guessed. "There has to be a way to find them, and the treasure, too."

"I suppose there's no shaking you now," Honey said.

"Not with buried treasure to find!" Trixie turned the little silver key over in her palm. "I wonder what it is? Gold? Jewels? Or maybe..." Her eyes flashed. "Maybe it's like the Little Mermaid, when her sisters bring her the knife of the Sea Witch to save herself by stabbing the prince!"

"Trixie!" Honey gasped. "That's dreadful!"

"Well, it's probably not true, anyway," Trixie said. "Maybe it's diamonds. But we'll never know unless we find it. And for that, I guess, we need to find Lucy. Evelyn moved away, but Lucy must live in town somewhere. We just have to figure out where." She looked up. "We should probably leave, to get home in time for dinner. Do you want to stay at my house tonight?"

"I'm always happy to eat your mother's cooking!" Honey laughed.

\---

The Belden family lived in a homestead known as Crabapple Farm, a few miles outside the town limits of Sleepyside. The old white farmhouse was not the grandest home in the area, but it was big enough for for a family with four children and room to spare. Sometimes Trixie wondered if the chores of keeping up the house and its orchards and gardens and chickens would be a little easier with more hands to share the work, but she didn't think she needed any more brothers. Three should be enough for anyone. Besides, getting another sibling now would require her parents to have another baby, and then Trixie would find herself stuck looking after it when she'd much rather be out chasing mysteries! 

At this time of day, it was always easy to find Mrs. Belden, since she wouldn't venture too far from her kitchen. She smiled and nodded as she heard the girls' plan. "You know you're always welcome here, Honey. Especially now, with the boys away. The table seems too empty without them. We're having meatloaf and mashed potatoes tonight."

"That's wonderful, I love your meatloaf," Honey warmly agreed. "I'll just take the horses to the house to tell Miss Trask and change into fresh clothes. I'll be back in time for grace."

While Honey hurried off to her own manor and governess, Trixie set the table, ran up the stairs, took a quick shower, put on a new set of clothing, barreled out of her room, and immediately tripped over her youngest brother. "Gleeps! Sorry, Bobby." She took a quick look to reassure herself that the curly-haired boy wasn't hurt, and then continued, "You shouldn't sit in front of people's doors! They aren't expecting you there."

"You were gone all day," he sulked. "I wanna have an adventure too!"

"Well, you would have gotten really tired if you'd tried to walk as far as we did. That wouldn't be much fun." At the age of six, Trixie knew, Bobby's energy levels were pretty erratic. He could scamper all over the farm almost too fast for his sister to keep up with him, and then all of a sudden be so tired she'd have to carry him back to the house for a nap. But seeing that this reminder was causing Bobby's lip to pout, she added, "Maybe we can have an adventure in the back garden tomorrow, huh? We can look for beetles. You can show me the best ones."

Trixie held out a hand, and after a moment's consideration, Bobby took it. They walked down the stairs together. "Okay, but the best ones like to hide in the dirt. They dig caves. Like pirates."

"Pirates don't dig caves themselves," Trixie corrected. "They find caves that are already there. There aren't any caves in our dirt."

"Trixie, dear, are you encouraging your brother to cover himself in mud?" Mrs. Belden and Honey met them with a smile as they approached the table.

"As long as he washes his hands before eating!"

Over dinner, Trixie watched as Honey ate her mother's meatloaf with every evidence of enjoyment. Of course, Moms was a great cook and almost everything she made was worth enjoying, but meatloaf didn't seem like the kind of dish that would ever appear on the Wheeler dining table. In her home, meals would be prepared by the staff and set out on fine china with candles. Even the food itself would be cut and presented differently, laid out in spiral slices with leaves and slivers of vegetables for color instead of taste. 

Maybe that, after all, was why Honey appreciated the meatloaf. It might not be as beautiful, but it sure was delicious. And when it came time for dessert, Trixie was sure her mother's chocolate cake could stack up against any fancy dinner party's offering.

After the meal, Honey was the first to start picking up the dishes, but Trixie swiftly followed. Although she never would, Trixie knew she could get away with playing slacker and let her friend do most of the work. Honey actually seemed to enjoy cleaning up, perhaps because she was never required to do so at home. Trixie hated housework of all sorts. It was such a lot of effort that never seemed to achieve anything. The house would always get dirty again; the neatly-made beds of the morning would be mussed in the night. So what was there to show for all the elbow grease?

It was worse now, with Mart and Brian away, leaving only Trixie to assist her parents around the house. What would she do as an adult, out on her own? Glumly, Trixie imagined her future self as a Cinderella, spending days and nights struggling to keep her living space in good order. If only she could live with someone like Honey! But then she might as well wish for a a manor house, an army of servants, and a private plane to take on adventures around the world.

Once the dishes were done, Trixie and Honey went upstairs to plan. They curled up together in the window seat of Trixie's bedroom and took out the papers from the mysterious shack to look them over again. 

"Lucy and Evelyn," Trixie said. "Too bad she didn't write down their family name! Then the phone book might help."

"Lucy's name would be different, if she married," Honey pointed out. 

"And if Evelyn married someone else after that, they could both have different names now. That doesn't help." Trixie sighed and leaned back, fanning herself with Evelyn's photograph. 

All of a sudden, she sat bolt upright again. "Hey! Do you think we could figure out who owns that land?"

"Where the shack was?" Honey tilted her head curiously, her smooth brown hair swaying. "There must be records. But Trixie, you can't know for certain that their family owned that land. It's mostly wild down there, and no one's been near it in years. If they thought no one would find their hideout, they wouldn't have to get permission."

"Maybe." Trixie swung her legs. It wouldn't be the first time they'd found young people squatting on someone else's property. "But they had to live nearby, didn't they? Whoever built the shack had to carry the wood and the tools there to put it all together. You wouldn't want to carry that for miles, especially not if you were trying to keep a secret." Her face fell. "Unless someone else built it and Evelyn and Lucy only found it, just like we did."

"Oh, no," Honey said promptly. "It was their space, not something they found. It would have to be, or they wouldn't have felt comfortable leaving bottles and cigarettes there." Honey suddenly paused and ducked her head, blushing. "Sorry."

"No, you're right!" Trixie shook her head. Sometimes she wondered how her friend could be so good at reading other people and still so hesitant at putting her own ideas forward. "That letter, too. Evelyn was expecting Lucy to find it, but not someone else. If that were someone else's clubhouse, they would have worried about the real owners coming back. I'm sure they must have lived nearby when they were young. Their family might still be there."

"We could circle around the area and look for houses?" Honey suggested. "Maybe someone who lives there would remember them?"

"That could take all day, though." Trixie made a face. "I promised Bobby I'd play with him sometime tomorrow. He's lonely with Mart and Brian gone."

"There's no hurry," Honey said. "That letter's been waiting a long time."

"But it drives me bonkers having a mystery and not being able to solve it."

Honey laughed. "You always do solve them in the end, Trixie!"

She grinned. "At least I have your support." Trixie frowned. "Hey. If Evelyn and Lucy lived near Sunnyside, they must have gone to our school. Maybe one of the teachers remembers them."

"Maybe," Honey said. "But it's summer now. Some of the teachers might have gone on vacation." 

"They can't all go away together just when I need them, I'm sure of it." Trixie said. "And won't they be impressed if I show up in the summer and want to talk about school?"

Honey smiled. "Hunting old students isn't quite the same thing as doing extra schoolwork." She thought. "It might work. You'd have to find someone who's been here long enough to remember, but you'd know better than I would about which teachers have worked for the school the longest."

"Mrs. Carr," Trixie said firmly. "I'm sure she'd know, if anyone would."

\---

After their planning session concluded, the girls had little to do but relax and prepare to sleep.

Trixie sat on the edge of her bed, shoes off, pink flannel pajamas still folded in her lap. "It's terribly sad, don't you think?" she said without preamble.

"Hmm?" Honey pulled her delicate blue nightgown down over her head and tugged it into place, then wrapped herself in a robe. "What's sad?"

Trixie said, "Evelyn and Lucy. Two sisters who must have loved each other a lot, and then they came apart. And after however long it's been, Lucy never went back to their hideout to find Evelyn's letter."

"Well, they grew up," Honey said. "People usually have a little more space from each other after they start families. Your aunt writes your father, but you don't see her often, right? But that doesn't mean they don't still care about each other." She offered a faint smile. "Anyway, Evelyn said she only thought Lucy would come back to see the letter if she wasn't happy with her husband, right? So it could be a good sign that the letter was still there."

"Does being a wife mean forgetting everything from when you were young?" Trixie looked up at her friend. "What happens when we get older? What if the Bob-Whites break up, and you stop talking to me? If I left a note for you in our clubhouse and you never went back there again so you never saw it, I'd feel terrible."

"Oh, Trixie." Honey sat next to her friend and put an arm around her shoulders. "I'd never stop talking to you." Her words were soft and comforting, but secretly, she felt the same doubts. Before the Wheelers moved to Sleepyside, Honey could never have imagined how her life here would turn out. A new adopted brother, a detective club, a best friend - those were all good things, but they weren't things she had expected. There might be just as many unpleasant surprises waiting. How could anyone know what would happen in the future? 

Trixie let her head rest briefly on Honey's shoulder. "Well, if you ever do, promise to check the gatehouse at least once a year!"

"I promise." Honey gave her a final squeeze and stood up. "Now get undressed, I'm going to brush my teeth."

Trixie wriggled into her pajamas, waited for her turn in the bathroom, and finally flung herself into bed. She blew Honey a good-night kiss. "Sweet dreams!"

\---

_Well, maybe her dreams are sweet,_ Trixie thought gloomily. _It's not so easy for me._

She wanted to sleep, she really did, but her mind refused to calm down and kept flicking from one scenario to another like images in a View-Master. Honey, beside her, was quiet and still, her breathing even. Fast asleep.

_I wish I could be more like her. My life would be easier._

Honey was sweet, shy, and pretty; kind, thoughtful, organised, studious, good with children, talented at sewing, and thought cleaning was fun. She was even more perfect than her glamorous mother, who clearly found home life a bit boring. Honey was everything that a girl was supposed to be. Everything that Trixie was not. 

Trixie reached a hand to her pillow and fingered her own short sandy-blonde curls. What would they look like if she grew out her hair? A mess, probably. She was already too busy with schoolwork and housework and minding Bobby and being co-president of the Bob-Whites of the Glen. If she had to take time out of every day to make herself up and style her hair as well, then she'd have to give up either meals or sleeping! 

But, she reminded herself, 'perfect' wasn't a fair description of Honey. Before the two girls had met, Honey had been a fragile near-invalid, more shut-in than shy. It was the energy and excitement of their relationship, their shared quest for mysteries and truths, that had revitalised her. They made a good team; two very different pieces that fit neatly together.

But could they stay that way?


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Mrs. Belden was in a hurry to leave the house to run some errands.

"I'm afraid I haven't had time to get Bobby his breakfast today," she confided to Trixie as she settled her handbag on her shoulder. "Your father and I were talking and, well, time just slipped away from me." Peter Belden had already taken the station wagon to town for his day's work. "Can you manage a bit of toast to tide him over until lunch?"

"I'll make eggs," Honey volunteered.

"Thank you, dear. I'll be back in a few hours, I promise."

"Don't worry, Moms. Everything will be fine," Trixie said.

While Trixie went upstairs to rouse her little brother from bed, Honey took the eggs out of the fridge and set a frying pan on the stove, humming to herself. The warmth of the Belden kitchen made mornings into a time of relaxation, where everything was simple and happy. Everyone liked to eat, and here she could make herself useful with the food and know that she had contributed to their happiness.

She could hear their footsteps coming down the stairs now. Trixie was lucky to have so many siblings! Even with Mart and Brian away, the house was never lonely. Quieter, maybe, but quiet and lonely were not the same thing. 

Growing up, Honey had longed for more of a family, even though she never dared admit it to her parents. Gaining a new circle of friends in the Bob-Whites and a new brother in Jim had gone a long way towards easing the empty spaces in Honey's life, but sometimes, she still felt as if something were missing. That was a feeling she could never confess, not after everything she'd been given. 

"Scrambled eggs are almost ready," Honey called out. "Trixie, do you want to come and fry some bacon?"

"Last time I almost set it on fire," Trixie said. "How about I just pour the drinks?"

"All right." Honey was never entirely sure whether Trixie actually disliked cooking, or whether she just felt self-conscious about not being as talented as her mother. Honey was happy to do it all herself, but she wanted to leave enough space for her friend to join in if she chose to.

They sat around the table together, the little boy swinging his legs merrily in the chair. "I guess we can't go talk to Mrs. Carr until afternoon," Trixie said. "I've got to watch Bobby until Moms gets back."

"She might not even be home today," Honey said. "It might take more than one try."

"I know, I know. But I want to get our next clue!"

"You're looking for clues, Trixie?" Bobby asked, his blue eyes wide. "Have you got a see-crud?"

"Oh, no," Trixie muttered.

"Well, it's not exactly a secret, Bobby," Honey said. "Trixie wanted to talk to one of her teachers about something at school."

That idea sounded much less exciting, but still left him confused. "But you don't like school."

"I like some things about school," Trixie said after a moment's hesitation. "I like seeing my friends."

The Bob-Whites might be Trixie's closest companions, Honey thought, but as an active, cheerful girl, she had any number of other friends to socialize with during the school year. "We wanted to ask a teacher about some girls who went to our school. You could come with us, Bobby."

Trixie looked up, startled, but Bobby was already dismissing this idea. "Nah. I wanna dig for treasure."

Honey smothered a laugh at the expression on Trixie's face. "Well, maybe your sister should help you with that first."

There was nothing left for Trixie to do but agree.

\---

That afternoon, the two girls set out on their bicycles to visit Sleepyside Junior-Senior High's infamous history teacher. Unlike many other teachers of the subject, Mrs. Carr's interest was in history, not in coaching sports teams. Students joked that she'd lived through all the history she taught, and as such expected far too much from younger people.

After hearing that Trixie and Honey planned to visit a teacher, Mrs. Belden insisted on preparing some fresh cookies for them to take along. Trixie appreciated the thought and the prospect of leftovers, even though she squirmed at the additional delay.

At long last, they stood before the freshly-painted white door.

"Beatrix! Madeleine! How lovely to see you." The elderly teacher had an excellent memory, but she insisted on maintaining the 'facts' of one's official name. Honey wasn't sure how it made Trixie feel to have her nickname ignored, but Honey herself always needed an extra moment to remember that someone was addressing her and not her mother. 

After the pleasantries and the exchange of cookies for lemonade, Trixie angled in on their reason for visiting. "Mrs. Carr, do you remember some former students, maybe five or ten years ago? A pair of sisters named Evelyn and Lucy? I don't know their last name."

"Evelyn..." The older woman tapped her cheek. "Well, I can think of several girls named Evelyn, but none with a sister named Lucy."

"Oh, dear," Honey said. Was Trixie wrong about the sisters attending the local school?

Trixie was undaunted. "Can you have a look at this photograph? I think this is Evelyn."

Mrs. Carr adjusted her glasses. "Hmm? Oh, of course. That's Evelyn Cox. Such a high-spirited young woman she was. Well, if you're looking for her, you won't find her in Sleepyside. She moved away some years ago." The girls exchanged excited glances. That fit with the letter! Could the Cox family be the answer? Those hopes fell again as she continued, "But she didn't have a sister."

"Oh, no!" Trixie said. "Are you sure?"

"Perhaps a sister who didn't attend school here?" Honey asked.

"Oh, I'm quite certain, dear. Young Evelyn was the sole heiress of the Cox family. That's what led her to be so, well, headstrong," the teacher laughed. "That girl! If she'd been born in Old Europe, she would have tried to lead wars herself. She had a great respect for Elizabeth I and Mary de Guise. But not Joan of Arc, no. She didn't want to meet her end so young."

Trixie's face was a picture of dismay. Honey tried to smooth things over politely. "Thank you very much for speaking with us, Mrs. Carr. I'm sorry we interrupted your day. We'll just have to look elsewhere for the sisters."

"Not so quick, dear," the teacher replied. "Why are you looking for these girls, anyway?"

Honey shot a glance at Trixie for help.

"Well, we found some lost property that was supposed to belong to Lucy," Trixie said. "We found this photograph and their first names, but that's all. We were hoping you knew their family so that we would know where to go next."

"I'm surprised at you, Beatrix," the teacher said, her wrinkled lips stretching in a smile. "I had heard you called yourself a sleuth. You didn't ask the right question! Of course I know Lucy's family. Lucy Ethridge was young Evelyn's bosom companion, not her sister."

If they'd been alone, Honey imagined that Trixie might have clapped a fist to her head in a mix of relief and dismay. 

\---

Some hours later, they had the address of Mrs. Richard Sanders, née Lucy Ethridge. That left the question of what to do next.

"We don't know her at all," Honey said. "We can't very well go to her door and ask her if she's unhappy in her marriage. That would be just unspeakable!"

"Yeah," Trixie said. "I don't know. Evelyn must have been wrong about Lucy's husband, so we probably shouldn't say anything about that at all. But we could still ask her about her friend."

Two friends, once so close that they called each other 'sister', now estranged. It was a very sad thought, but the idea of interfering also made Honey slightly uncomfortable. "Maybe we should put the letter and the key back in the lean-to where they were, so that Lucy can find them in her own time."

Trixie shook her head. "Remember the letter? Evelyn couldn't even tell Lucy she was leaving. Lucy must have thought her best friend abandoned her without a word. That's got to be why she never went back to the hideout. We're the only ones who can bring them together." She clasped Honey's hand. "Don't you see? It's up to us to save their friendship."

"Oh, Trixie," Honey sighed. "You know you can talk me into anything." But that wasn't something she entirely objected to. After all, without the inquisitive blonde's energy and drive, Honey Wheeler might still be all alone. "I suppose you're right. We can't leave them hurting like that if there's something we can do to fix it. But what should we do?"

"Tell the truth," Trixie said. "We found a letter, and it was addressed to her."

"And the treasure?"

"Well..." Trixie made a face. "Maybe she'll ask us to help her find it, since we already know."

Honey hoped that would be the case, as she knew it would make her friend squirm for weeks if they couldn't see the mystery through.

The Sanders' house was not as welcoming as Crabapple Farm, nor as neat and tidy as Mrs. Carr's little white house. The front lawn was in want of a good weeding, but colorful flowerbeds still ringed the trees.

Trixie knocked on the door and waited. Distantly, she could hear a voice calling "Just a minute! Just a minute!"

After a brief wait, the door opened, revealing a woman in a flowered dress and blue apron, a pink-faced toddler supported in her arm. Her lips were painted a lovely red, but her ash-blond curls were slipping out of their pins, and her eyes looked tired. "Hello? Ah - good afternoon. Are you selling magazines? I'm sorry, I'm not interested."

Honey blinked, momentarily surprised by this vision of frazzled young motherhood. They had known, of course, that Lucy and Evelyn were no longer the carefree teenagers of their hideout days, but it was one thing to know that and another to be faced with the result. Would a long-ago message from a departed friend hold any meaning to her now?

Trixie pressed on with the plan. "No, ma'am. We were looking for, ah, a Mrs. Lucy Sanders. Might you be she?"

"That's right." Mrs. Sanders frowned. "What's this about?"

"My name's Trixie Belden, and this is my friend Honey Wheeler," Trixie said. "We - well, we have something that we think belongs to you. It's a letter from Evelyn Cox."

Lucy Sanders' eyes went wide. "That unnatural woman? I don't want anything to do with her. And if you know what's good for you, neither will you!" And she slammed the door in their faces.

The girls were left staring at each other in shock as the cries of the distressed toddler faded away.

\---

Back at the Manor House, Honey tried to console Trixie over the failure of their mystery. "It wasn't the right time, for Lucy," she suggested. "She's a mother now. Her family must be very important to her. Evelyn didn't like Lucy's husband, remember? They fought about it, and Lucy still hasn't forgiven her. She has to come to that in her own time."

"It's my fault," Trixie said. "I should have said things differently. I never got a chance to say that Evelyn was sorry, or to tell her about the treasure. Now they're even farther apart."

"Oh, it might not be that way," Honey said. "She was surprised, that's all. But you've reminded her of her friend. I'm sure, when she has time to think about it, someday, she'll miss her."

"Maybe," Trixie sighed. "Maybe you were right and we should have put the letter back where we found it. Will you come with me tomorrow?"

"Of course," Honey promised. "But, I - There's no reason to hurry, now, is there? One day or another won't make a difference. We should do something different tomorrow."

Half of Trixie's mouth twisted up into a bitter smile. "If there's no hope and we have to give up, part of me wants to get it over with as soon as possible."

"That's why - I don't want us to feel like we're giving up." Despite what Trixie had said, Honey didn't think 'giving up' would really sit very well with her in the long run. It wasn't in her nature. "We shouldn't be in a rush. We - we could even add our own letters, like a message to the future. Wouldn't that be fun?"

"If no one ever comes to read them..."

"Someone will," Honey said. "We did."

Trixie shook her head. "I don't know. Maybe."

"Come over tomorrow?" Honey asked. "We can swim and think about it."

"All right."

And then, Trixie went back to Crabapple Farm and Honey was alone again.

No, that wasn't fair. The staff were all over the estate, involved in their daily duties. Miss Trask was happy to keep Honey company. Jim would be back in less than a month; her parents would be present some evenings. Trixie and Diana weren't so far away, and would come if she needed them. And there were always the horses to pet and brush and talk to. 

_How can I feel unsatisfied, when I have so much?_

Honey remembered the nameless child clutched in Lucy Sanders' arms. Was that what she wanted? A baby? To have someone she could love without limit, someone who would love her unconditionally in return? It was tempting. Bobby Belden was a darling, and she'd always enjoyed cuddling the little boy or entertaining him with stories. However, it didn't seem likely that her parents would be presenting her with a baby brother or sister. As for becoming a mother herself, that wasn't something Honey could do on her own! And what if it didn't work out? You couldn't give away a husband and a child the way you could a puppy. 

_Solving other people's mysteries is easier than solving my own._

Life seemed so much more real when Trixie was around! Together, they helped people. They had adventures. When they had a case to investigate, every day had purpose and direction. 

Except, sometimes, it felt like Trixie did all the solving, and the rest of the Bob-Whites were only there to support her and cheer her on. Honey didn't mind being a sidekick. She wanted to help, any way she could. But what if it wasn't enough? What if, someday, Trixie decided she didn't need Honey any more?


	3. Chapter 3

The next day, Trixie and Honey were 'relaxing' at the Manor House pool, although there wasn't much that was relaxing about it. Trixie couldn't see the point in going to a lake or a pool just to lie around staring at the scenery and not doing any swimming! 

With a sweep of her arm, she aimed a wave of spray at Honey, who squealed and splashed her back. 

In the water, Honey's hair shaded darker and clung to the shape of her head, making her seem small and weak and young. The pool had quite the opposite effect on the rest of her body. While her blue-and-white skirted bathing suit was just as demure as Trixie's own, a far cry from the saucy 'window' suits they'd seen in fashion magazines, it did nothing to hide the increasing development of Honey's figure. Trixie couldn't quite decide whether she wished her own body would hurry up or not. 

"Push off the side - let's race across!" she challenged her friend.

Between kicks and splashes, it took them a few moments to hear Miss Trask calling for them. A visitor had come to the Manor House, specifically to see Honey. Who could it be?

Quickly, the girls toweled off and wrapped themselves in robes. Trixie followed behind Honey as they walked to the door. After all, it wasn't her house.

Waiting at the door was... Lucy Sanders!

This time the woman was dressed in a pretty blue dress, her hair neatly arranged. The curly-haired child lay sleeping in a buggy beside her. Trixie stared for a few moments before remembering to close her mouth and swallow. Honey's manners kicked in more quickly. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Sanders. It's lovely to see you again. Can I help you?"

"I can't stay long," the woman said. "Jesse won't stay asleep forever. But you said you have a message for me, from Evie?"

Trixie blinked. "I thought you said you didn't want anything to do with her."

Mrs. Sanders smiled and shook her head slightly. "You caught me off guard. I had to. I never expected... Well, you are from a good family, aren't you?" She addressed this to Honey, who nodded in confusion. "Like Evelyn was. I suppose that must be why you can... How you met her."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Honey said. "We didn't get a chance to finish telling you, yesterday. We haven't met Miss Cox. We found a letter that she wrote."

"Oh, I see."

Trixie wondered if that was disappointment she heard in her voice.

"If you'll wait here just a moment," Honey said, "I can go and get it for you." They had left the letter and key in Honey's room, and she preferred not to have the staff searching through her personal belongings.

Honey stepped away, leaving Trixie to entertain the visitor. "So..." she drew out, looking at the sleeping child. "His name's Jesse?" She couldn't be completely sure the toddler was a boy, but it seemed more likely than not, by clothing.

"That's right," Mrs Sanders said. "My little treasure. Richard wanted to give him his name, but I told him it would be too confusing to have both of my men wear the same label."

Trixie had trouble thinking of such a tiny creature as any sort of a man.

"I remembered Miss Wheeler's name enough to find this estate, but... you're not from this family, are you?"

"No," Trixie said. "I'm her friend."

"Well." Mrs. Sanders smiled, but the expression didn't reach her eyes. "I hope things work out for you."

Honey returned with the letter. "Here you are, just as we found it." She handed it over, but didn't mention the key. 

For a minute, there was silence, as Mrs. Sanders read through the words that had lain waiting for her for so long. Trixie caught her breath. Had they done the right thing? Would the woman who was once simply "Lucy" be pleased, or angry? 

Mrs. Sanders' eyes turned suspiciously misty. "Evie..." she murmured. "If only you could..." She shook her head again, restoring her composure. "I'm afraid Evie - Evelyn - always liked to make things sound more dramatic than they were. She was... She saw the world through very different eyes. But I - I suppose it's an improvement, that she at least considered the possibility that I might be happier now."

"Do - do you want to find her, to call her or write to her?" Honey asked. "To let her know that you are well?"

"No," Mrs. Sanders said. "I know Evie. I don't want to encourage her, when I have no intention of... It's better to leave the past in the past." She smiled faintly. "But thank you for your offer, and for bringing me this letter."

"But what about - " Trixie burst out, then looked sheepish. "We, I, was hoping that we could help you to find the buried treasure. It belongs to you, of course, but..."

"Whatever Evie left there, I don't want it," Mrs. Sanders said firmly. "I don't believe there's any sense - or treasure - in it. I know Evie. Her new address, an old bus ticket, a key to her backdoor... those are the sorts of things she would leave behind. They're no use to me. I don't need her to 'save' me."

How could anyone willingly choose not to find out the truth? Trixie felt the frustration boiling up inside her, stopping her from formulating any polite response to this strange woman's words. Thankfully, Honey picked up the slack. "It seems a shame to abandon a gift to be forgotten forever. If it is buried, it might be dug up by accident eventually, by someone who doesn't even know what it is. Wouldn't it be better to find out now?"

Mrs. Sanders sniffed, a surprisingly childish sound. "I should have expected you to be just like Evelyn. You're imagining gold and jewelry, aren't you? You'll be disappointed. But... I suppose, tying up loose ends..." She looked over the letter again. "I don't know what key she means."

"We have it," Trixie said.

She let that pass without comment. "The night of the prom...." Mrs. Sanders closed her eyes and tilted her head up, the trace of a smile dawning across her face. "We went out walking, in the evening. We didn't have dates. We were happier to be together. We stopped by a little stone tower, one of the ventilation chambers from the old aqueduct, and looked up at the stars..." Her voice trailed away. As she opened her eyes, the years settled on her once again. "That's where you should look."

"Ventilation towers?" Honey wondered.

"I know where that is," Trixie said, excited. "There's only one of those near Sleepyside. They've been talking about shutting down the aqueduct for years; it could get dug up. We have to go and see!" She caught up Honey's hand in her enthusiasm.

Mrs. Sanders' lips pinched together. "Do what you want, I'm not your mother." She looked down at the sleeping child next to her. "Whatever you find, even if it did turn out to be a locket - or some other jewelry - keep it for yourselves. Don't bring it to me."

"Are you sure?" Honey asked.

"What's done is done. I loved Evie, but I have my own life now. I don't - I can't - start that again. I don't want some crazy idea of hers in the back of my mind, distracting me from my life and my family." Mrs. Sanders's voice was calm now. "If you find something, keep it or destroy it. I don't want to know."

"All right," said Trixie. "Thank you for talking to us."

"And thank you for your concern, but please don't visit me again." She turned the buggy in preparation to leave. "And... Be sure you know what you want, before you make any permanent decisions. Have a good day."

As Mrs. Sanders walked away, Trixie looked at Honey. "What did she mean, decisions?"

"I'm not sure," the other girl said slowly. "I wish I did know what I wanted."

"Me too, I guess." After all, Trixie reasoned, if she wasn't sure what was being asked, then she definitely wasn't sure what the answer might be.

\---

Trixie and Honey, now dry and dressed for the outdoors, made their way along a narrow dirt trail. "People hike the whole length of the old aqueduct," Trixie explained. "It's about fifty miles from the far end to New York City. It's called the old aqueduct because the city needs so much water, they had to build another one. They're both really old now, though. And it's all underground."

"I never thought about where the water came from in the city," Honey said. "With the ocean right there, I never wondered, even though we can't drink salt water."

"See, you always had a little piece of the valleys inside you, wherever you were," Trixie smiled. 

"What are we looking for? A pile of stones? A milestone marker? A building?"

"You'll see.... Look! There!"

Trixie pointed ahead to a pillar of gray stone blocks, thick as an old tree trunk and topped with what looked like an enormous flat stone wheel.

Honey walked up and lay her hand against the rough stone surface. "It really is like a tiny castle tower," she said. "But there's no door."

"I think there's a hole at the top to let air in," Trixie said. "We just can't see it from down here. Come on! The treasure is buried 'behind the stones' - we're almost there!"

The girls brought out the set of gardening tools they had borrowed from the Wheeler estate and walked to the far side of the ventilation tower, away from the road. The last rain was long enough ago that the ground was not too wet, but it was still easy enough to dig.

Unfortunately, after half an hour's work, they had nothing to show for their efforts but a broad hole and a lot of dirt on their trousers. There was no sign of any treasure.

"I'm afraid to dig too deep," Trixie admitted. "I don't know how far down you can go without hitting something important to the aqueduct. Oh, Honey! Do you think someone found the treasure before us?"

"I don't think so," Honey said. "We found the letter and the key. No one else would know where to look, and even if they found something, how would they open it? Maybe we're not digging in the right place."

"But this is behind the tower," Trixie said.

Honey looked at the tower again. "It's all round. There's no front or back. How do we know which side is 'behind'?"

"Well, she wouldn't have wanted to dig up the side right by the trail, someone might have seen it..." Trixie suddenly stood up. Scowling in concentration, she walked around the stone tower. All of a sudden, she let out a yelp. "Of course! The number!" Each aqueduct tower was labeled with a number, to enable maintenance crews to be directed to the correct target. Those black numbers were the only official marking on the outside of the round stone tower, and they were not set on the side directly closest to the path, but a little ways around. If that made the 'front', then 'behind' would be...

With renewed hope, the girls quickly scooped the disturbed dirt back into the hole they'd been digging and shifted around to a new location. Minutes went by, and Trixie's face picked up a decorative brown smear where she'd brushed her hair aside with filthy hands. At last, Honey's trowel _clunked_ against something solid, and Trixie's eyes lit up. Was this it?

Four hands scrabbled together in the loosened soil to work the object free. It was a small metal box, brownish-black with scuffed red-and-gold trim around the lid, and a little swing handle on top. Rather than tug on a rusty handle, Trixie and Honey dug around the box to lift it from below. It was surprisingly heavy for its size. There had to be something inside!

"Should we take it home before we look inside?" Honey asked.

"No," said Trixie. "We need to be sure we've found the right thing. If this isn't Evelyn's box, then we shouldn't move it. So we have to see if the key fits." And if that meant getting the answers to all her curious imaginings a little bit faster, then that was just a handy little extra!

The keyhole was clogged with dirt from its long interment. Trixie scraped at it with her fingernails until Honey drew out a pin to clear the opening. 

"Who gets to turn the key?" Trixie asked.

"You go ahead," Honey said. "I'll watch."

Cautiously, Trixie slid the little key into the lock and twisted. 

The lid opened.

"Coins?" Trixie's mouth worked in reflex with her eyes. The box was crammed with not gold, but silver pieces. 

"Peace dollars," Honey said. "There must be more than a hundred of them in here."

"A hundred dollars! That's what she left Lucy. Enough money to go anywhere she wanted, rent an apartment..." Trixie picked up the faded card that lay on top of the money. "Evelyn's new address. She must have still hoped that Lucy would come to visit her."

The two girls looked at each other.

"We promised not to bother Mrs. Sanders again," Honey said.

"She doesn't want the address or the money," Trixie agreed. "But... What do we do with it?" Somehow, she'd never expected her 'buried treasure' to be something as simple and straightfoward as spendable cash. "If it had been a trinket of some sort, we could have kept it in remembrance. But this? It wouldn't feel right to spend the money that Evelyn meant to help Lucy, even if she wants us to. We could put it back, but if no one ever finds it, isn't that just as sad? What should we do?"

Honey pondered, sucking her bottom lip in between her teeth - it was adorable when she did that, Trixie thought idly. At last, she pointed to the card that Trixie held. "We should ask Evelyn."


	4. Chapter 4

It took some time for a letter to travel from Sleepyside to California. Considering that the recipient was not expecting their message and might not even be present at the address, Honey was not expecting a swift reply. The tin box, key, and letter rested in a lower drawer of her vanity, safe and out of sight, and the days passed.

The next month, Jim, Mart, and Brian returned from their camping experience, filled with stories of the woods and the mischief their young charges had been up to. In between tales, Trixie mentioned to the other Bob-Whites that she and Honey had spotted an old camping shelter in the woods, but she said nothing of what they had discovered inside.

Honey wasn't sure why, exactly, she'd chosen to keep it a secret. Was it because there was nothing left to solve, and no reason to get the boys involved in a mystery that had already run its course? Was it to protect the privacy of Mrs. Sanders? Or was it only because, at heart, this 'case' was only a story of two teenage girls who had been very close friends, like she and Trixie were, and therefore not the business of their brothers?

The return of the older Beldens meant that Trixie had fewer chores to keep her busy. Therefore, it happened that she was relaxing in Honey's bedroom on the day that the letter arrived.

>   
>  Dear Trixie and Honey,
> 
> Thank you for your letter. I am pleased to hear that my Lucy is well and enjoying motherhood, even if there is no hope of rekindling our connection. I believe it is for the best to leave things as they are.
> 
> I could not tell from your writing whether the two of you share a relationship such as Lucy and I did in our youth, but I would like to imagine that it is true. Whether or not that is the case, please accept the money which I left for Lucy as a donation to the future Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency. From the skills you have demonstrated so far, I am sure you can make it a success, but you may require some startup capital. 
> 
> My purpose in leaving those funds was to give Lucy the power to make her own choices rather than be trapped in a marriage out of necessity. My family was much wealthier than hers, and she often told me that she did not have the freedom that I did to pursue a variant lifestyle because of it. I could not make a difference for Lucy, but if I can help other young women to pursue their dreams, then I am fulfilled. 
> 
> Sincerely,  
>  Evelyn Cox  
> 

"Oh, dear," Honey murmured as she finished reading the letter. Of course, Miss Cox would have no way of knowing about the Wheeler family's finances, since she had moved out of Sleepyside long before Honey's arrival. It felt dishonest to think of taking money that was intended to help the less fortunate.

"What's wrong?" Trixie asked.

"Nothing." It wouldn't be polite to reject the money, either, especially as it was intentionally given in honor of their detective work. Honey knew that Trixie's family, while comfortable, could not possibly provide the resources to support each of their children as they set out into separate adult lives. In the future, she might feel a great deal better about creating the business she dreamed of if she had some money set aside for it, rather than needing to rely on Honey. Even if Honey was happy to be relied on, _wanted_ to be relied on. "I suppose we'll have to hold onto those silver dollars for a while longer. Maybe we should ask your father to set up a bank account especially for detective work."

"Sure, I guess," Trixie said. She was still frowning over the letter. "What do you think she means, about our relationship and hers? We told her we were friends."

"I suppose she's not sure if we're the same kind of friends that they were," Honey said. "Or the same kind of people."

Trixie swept a hand back through her hair, then smiled. "Well, we're not the same kind of girls that hang about in the woods with gin and cigarettes, if that's what she means."

"That's true, we don't do the same sort of things that they did," Honey said. Evelyn - Miss Cox - had mentioned a 'variant lifestyle'. She clearly hadn't married, and didn't think Lucy should have either. Mrs. Carr had called Evelyn 'high-spirited' and 'headstrong' as a student. She had skipped regular school activities like the formal prom in favor of wearing men's jeans and sneaking around in the dark with her best friend...

Oh.

_**Oh.** _

Trixie's forehead wrinkled. "Honey? Are you all right?"

"Ah - fine?" she temporized, heart racing with the power of her sudden self-insight. "Ah... So... It sounds like Miss Cox wasn't very fond of marriage, doesn't it? What - what do you think about getting married, Trixie?"

"Huh? What's that got to do with anything?"

"Oh, I'm just curious," Honey said, and swallowed. "Do you think about it? Do you look forward to having a husband, the way you look forward to having a detective agency?"

"No!" Trixie laughed. "I like weddings, but - I'm sure I'll never look pretty enough to be a bride!"

"Of course you will," Honey fired back. "There's nothing wrong with the way you look."

"I'll never be glamorous like you or Di," Trixie said. "And anyway, after the wedding comes all the being-a-wife stuff, and I'm no good at that either. I can't cook, I hate cleaning, and I'd rather dig for buried treasure than hold a baby any time. Maybe I'll figure it all out one day, but right now, it's a mess! I don't think I'd be any good with a husband."

"Maybe," Honey gulped. "Maybe you don't need a husband. Like - Like what the letter says."

"Maybe, but... I don't want to be alone forever either," Trixie said.

"So... what if... maybe you don't need a husband, but more of a... wife?" Honey laughed nervously. "Someone who was good at all of those things that you think you're not. Someone who could keep the house for you."

"You mean a maid?" Trixie shrugged. "Maybe if we become world-famous, but really, I'd rather live with you."

"That's what I meant," Honey said, and put her hand over Trixie's. "That's what I meant."


End file.
